


Bang! Bang! Bang!

by Themreaper



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Gangster! AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2018-03-25 15:03:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3814858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Themreaper/pseuds/Themreaper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The year is 1931 and Clarke Griffin faces a challenge; ally herself with a rival gang or have everything she loves taken from her.</p><p>The choice is harder than it seems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I'll use you as a warning sign

“Let him up.”

When the man's head was pulled up, he immediately gasped for breath, coughing water out his mouth and nose. Clarke pulled the cigarette from her mouth, holding it between her two fingers, her legs crossed. When Clarke needed information, she was ruthless. During times of desperation, that is truly when her bad side came out. Most of her people knew her as assertive, but also protective, and most didn't get to see the soft side of Clarke Griffin. However, having a soft side didn't mean she wasn't above watching a man being drowned alive to get information. To be honest, there was no such thing as going too far to protect her people. 

“Now....Robert,” she paused, standing from her chair and taking a puff from her cigarette, “I'm going to ask you one more time. Who is killing my people?”

“I told you! I. Don't. Know.” He yelped when one of Clarke's men hit him in the gut, his legs going out from underneath him. When he finally recovered he felt the familiar sting of a slap across the face.

“I'm not playing games. You know I wouldn't be doing this to you if I just knew what I need to know!” The back of Clarke's hand was an angry red color, already turning colors from the force of the slap. “I don't need your attitude right now. I need answers.”

“Look, I don't kn-”

She sighed, “Put him under.” Immediately, his head was forced underwater, his limbs flailing in every direction in an attempt to get away. When she finally gave the signal, his head was pulled up again. “Getting really tired of hearing that, Robert. You have to know something.”

When he fell silent, Clarke sighed. “What are they doing? Threatening your family?” When he didn't answer she heaved a heavier sigh, pulling a revolver from the holster at her thigh. “We're going to play a game.” She spun the revolver's chamber, tapping the barrel against the side of his head. “There's one bullet in here. I spin it once, and after every question you don't answer I pull the trigger,” she raised and eyebrow, “Got it?”

Instead of answering, Clarke watched Robert's chest heave and his eyes go wide with fear.

“Good. I'm glad you understand.”

She took another puff of her cigarette, letting her hostage wait. “We'll start off small. Who are you working for now?”

She watched him press his lips together, but otherwise nothing. She pulled the trigger.

Click.

“Oh, lucky you. That one was empty. Better be careful, your odds are getting lower.” She watched intently as Robert started trembling. “Second question, does this have something to do with the other sides?”

This time she watched his eyes light up, but otherwise the reaction was the same.

“So it is. What side?”

His eyes went teary and he avoided eye contact. When her finger went to pull the trigger, he panicked. “I can't tell you, okay?! Things will get really complicated for me if I do.” He jerked at the men that were holding him down, trying his best to get away.

Clarke's face was cold. She pulled a handful of his hair with her left hand, yanking his head back. She pressed the gun against his temple and pulled the trigger.

Click.

“C'mon, Robert give me something I can work with,” she said, the volume of her voice raising. “You need to understand the stakes for me too, okay?”

“I can't-”

Click

Tears began to stream down his face. “IT'S CAGE!” He screamed, his body visibly trembling. He violently yank at his arms, trying to scramble free. “I don't know anything more than that, okay? You have to believe me!”

Clarke pulled back in surprise. “Cage?” That shouldn't surprise her, he was a scumbag. He set off all sorts of alarms in her head. She gestured to her men, “Okay, let him go.”

When he was freed, he looked at Clarke with pleading eyes. “You can't tell him I told you anything. He'll kill me.”

Clarke put her hands on his shoulders, her gentle persona a complete turnaround to her merciless persona, “Relax. You held up your end of the bargain, I'll hold up mine. Just be careful.”

He nodded, darting in the other direction and out the door.

Clarke opened her revolver, staring into the empty chamber for a few seconds before closing it and setting on the table.

~~~

_Ring Ring--_

Lexa opened her eyes to a dark room. She must have fallen asleep at her desk again.

_Ring Ring--_

She lifted her head, papers sticking to the side of her face. She reached for the phone, pressing it against her ear. “Hello?” she rasped into the phone, her voice still heavy with sleep.

There was a slight pause on the other end of the line, then she heard another voice. “Lexa?” Lexa's paused at the sound of Clarke's voice. “Look, sorry to call at such a late time, but I think I'm going to need your help.”

  
“Clarke, you know it isn't wise for us to speak to each other,” Lexa brought her free hand up to rub at her face, trying to shake some of the interrupted sleep. 

 

“I'm not concerned about that right now. Do you think we can meet up?” Clarke's voice was concerning. She sounded stressed.

Lexa pursed her lips, mulling the thought over. It really wasn't a good idea.

Yet.....

“Okay. But we meet on my territory, got it?” Lexa's voice was hard, unyielding.

Clarke chuckled softly. “I'd expect nothing less from you.”

~~

The next morning, Lexa sat in the back of her speakeasy, impatiently tapping her fingers against the table. Her mind raced, wondering what Clarke wanted to meet her about. Clarke and her weren't exactly on the best terms. Obviously if she was coming to Lexa it must have been serious. The two were rivals. Clarke represented the East side and Lexa the West. They were constantly fighting over territory, neither of them willing to budge or give in. However, while Lexa didn't particularly like Clarke, she respected her.

It was a complicated relationship.

Lexa's eyes darted up when the bell above the speakeasy's door chimed. In walked Clarke in all her feminine beauty. Hair curled just right, cherry red lipstick painting her mouth, and her tan lapel coat buttoned perfectly. It was truly a wonder how Clarke managed to run a criminal empire.

And look so good doing it.

Lexa watched Clarke glance around her establishment. She lit up a cigarette, observing her surroundings before her eyes finally landed on Lexa. When they did she took a deep breath and headed for the booth.

A dark woman suddenly appeared in front of her, her demeanor filled with venom. “Ah, ah, ah. I don't think so.” She stuck her hand out, palm facing upwards. “Weapons. Now.”

Clarke sighed, reaching into her pocket and handing over her revolver. When she paused, both Indra and Lexa raised their eyebrows, waiting. “Okay, fine.” She took a minute to hand over the rest of her weapons. Resulting in two other guns and three knives. The girl came well prepared.

“Are you alone?” Lexa inquired.

Clarke barked out a laugh. “Absolutely not. You think I trust you not to gut me?” She tilted her head, gesturing behind her, “Octavia's around somewhere. I wouldn't make a move on me if I were you, in case you were thinking about. She's just as deadly at long range.”

Lexa took a moment to scan the rest of the room, spotting Octavia in the corner giving Lexa a sour look. Lexa momentarily raised her eyebrows before returning her attention to Clarke. “Leave us, Indra.”

Indra huffed, slamming her shoulder into Clarke when she passed, stopping just long enough to hiss “Try something and I end your life,” before continuing on her way.

“Very charming.” Clarke remarked.

Lexa pointed to the seat across from her, “Have a seat, Clarke.” When she did, Lexa spoke again. “What is this about?”

Clarke let out a breath, her eyes leaving Lexa's to stare at the table. Then there was a pause, as if Clarke was trying to find the right words. Just as Lexa was about to break the silence, Clarke spoke. “Cage is killing off my people.” She furrowed her eyebrows, “I need to know why.”

Lexa considered Clarke's words. “Did you consider that your people may have been sticking their nose where it didn't belong?”

“No. It's been on my territory.” She paused to take a drag on her cigarette, “I think he's planning something. North side was pretty quiet when Dante was in charge. He knew how to keep out of my business.” She shook her head. “Cage is a lunatic. Who knows what he could be up to? I have Bellamy getting all the information he can, but I'm afraid he might need help.”

“Is that where I come in?”

“Very observant.”

Lexa leaned forwards, her green eyes studying Clarke.“And why should I do that?”

“Well, he may start with me, but what's stopping him from getting to you too?” Clarke leaned forward, mimicking Lexa, her eyes staring into Lexa's. There was a pause, tension so heavy it could be cut with a knife settling between the two of them. “You scratch my back and I scratch yours.”

Lexa didn't look convinced, “Sounds to me like you're just trying to get me to do your dirty work.”

Clarke sighed, breaking eye contact to reach into her pocket. “What about this?” She pulled out two fat rolls of money, setting them on the table in front of Lexa. “Fifteen hundred dollars. Will this get you on my side?”

Lexa's facial expression didn't change, neither did her body language. “Two thousand,” she said in a flat voice.

Clarke frowned, “No.”

“Two thousand or I walk,” Lexa said in her 'no-negotiation' voice.

Clarke's frown deepened. She paused for a few seconds, mulling the thought over. “Okay, fine.”

  
The blonde raised her eyebrow, “Do we have a deal?”

Lexa's lips twitched.

“For now.”


	2. There's a dark part of town where the girls get down

“You mustn't trust her.”

Lexa's eyes flickered up to Indra, who seemed to be simmering with rage. Her dislike for Clarke was one not even Lexa could match. Though, to be fair, Indra didn't like anyone. “I am doing no such thing,” Lexa replied coolly, tucking the money Clarke left on the table into her pocket. In actuality she didn't need the money, she just wanted to see how far Clarke would negotiate. Obviously, the blonde had plenty of money to spare. Not that that was a surprise.

Indra's jaw clenched at her reply, but otherwise said nothing. It wouldn't be wise for her to challenge her leader; even if she seemed to do it all the time. Lexa appreciated Indra's guidance, but sometimes it wasn't needed. Like now, for instance. Lexa sighed, “Indra, I'm going to need to talk to Lincoln. Tell him to meet me in my office.” If she was going to follow through on her deal, then she was going to get her best spy working.

Indra hesitated for a moment, before nodding. “Of course.”

Lexa watched Indra go, her mind wandering back to Clarke and their conversation. Clarke was desperate. Lexa could tell. It was admirable how deeply she cared for her people. She wasn't sure if she could think the same of Cage, who seemed to be playing risky as of lately. Clarke's proposition did bring up a good point. What exactly was Cage up to? He wasn't the type for senseless killing – unless it benefited him in some way. There had to be a reason he was doing what he was doing.

Lexa hoped he wasn't doing what she suspected he might be doing.

When her driver arrived, she slid into the backseat, her thoughts heavy. She let her head rest against the window, watching the scenery of Chicago pass by, lips tilting upward when she passed children playing in the street, laughing loudly as they ran around. Memories of her own childhood flash in her mind. She used to be that innocent.

It was incredible how much things have changed.

~~

Clarke worked all day. Between visiting the victim's families, setting up funeral arrangements, and her other normal duties, the day passed by in a blur. Bellamy reported back to her with his findings, but none of it was anything they could use, putting Clarke into an even darker mood. Everything around her just seemed to be falling apart.

Clarke made a decision to stop by her mom's place. Cage wasn't the only second-generation mobster in Chicago. Clarke's parents paved the way for her success. Abby had begged Clarke not to take her place, but Clarke had never been a good listener. After the death of her father, Clarke's heart was heavy. She felt the need to continue in his memory, even if it meant going against her mother's advice. It was then that Abby stepped down, assuring Clarke that nothing good ever happens in the business. It only got the people you loved around you killed, she had said.

It wasn't until now that she realized her mom was right.

Clarke sighed, tentatively knocking on her mom's door. When it opened, Abby Griffin's confused face appeared. “Clarke?”

Clarke took a shaky breath, “Hi, mom.” 

Abby took a second to observe Clarke demeanor, before inviting her daughter inside. “Trouble in paradise?” She asked, her words joking, but her tone serious. 

Clarke sighed, running her fingers through her hair, “You have no idea.” 

“Well, sit down. I’ll get you something to drink.” 

She did as she was asked, sitting on the edge of the couch, her back and shoulders tense, heavy from the stress she had been carrying. She tapped her fingers against her leg, waiting for Abby to return. When she did, she offered Clarke warm tea, setting the cup on the table in front of her. Abby sat next to her daughter, wrapping her arm around her shoulder. “Tell me what’s going on.” 

“I don’t even know where to start….” 

“The beginning usually works best.”

Clarke took a deep breath, picking her tea cup up. “People I’m in charge of are dying, and I don’t know how to stop it.” 

Abby nodded in understanding, “Do you have anyone helping you?”

“Bellamy and Raven are working together, but Cage is on high alert. It’s difficult for them to get close without alerting him.” Clarke bit her lip, wondering if she tell her mom about Lexa. “And…..Well….”

Her mother raised her eyebrows. “What?” Abby asked in her motherly, ‘I-can-tell-by-your-tone-you-did-something-bad' voice that nearly every mother seemed to possess. 

“I sort of…asked Lexa for help.” 

Abby’s eyebrow quirked up even further, “Lexa? I'm not sure it's wise to trust a rival. They always end up stabbing you in the back eventually." She shrugged, "At least that's what it was like back in my day. She wasn’t around when your father and I were, so I can’t attest to what kind of person she is.”

“I hope so,” Clarke sipped at her tea, “She seemed to genuinely want to help. I mean, we did have our differences, but that comes with the job description.” Lexa and Clarke were close in ages, so the two of them were particularly competitive. 

“Just don’t put all your eggs in one basket, Clarke. I know that trusting someone too much can be your downfall.” Abby rubbed Clarke’s back, “Like you said, ‘comes with the job description’.” 

Clarke nodded slowly, mulling over her decisions. “I just don’t know what to do without starting a full out war. I’m afraid that’s what it will come down to.” She clenched her jaw, trying to avoid the tears that were threatening to fall. “So many people depend on me…..I’m tired of them getting hurt.” 

Abby pulled Clarke into a hug. “I know. It’s difficult, but it’s all you can do to keep going. I know that you didn’t listen to me, but I’m sure you have a good reason.” Abby pulled away, lightly shaking Clarke’s shoulder. “You can do it, Clarke. I’ve never seen anyone more capable than you.” 

Clarke put her head on her mom’s shoulder, a few tears streaming down her face before she got it under control. “It’s just…..hard. I want to be able to trust people, but I know I can’t.” She thought back to Lexa’s face, and their agreement. Could she really trust Lexa? She hoped so. 

Clarke glanced up to the clock ticking on the wall. It was getting late. She rubbed her eyes, “I need to go now.” She gave her mom one last hug before getting up. “Thank you,” Clarke said softly.

“I’m your mom, Clarke. I’m always here to support you, even if I don’t necessarily agree with what you’re doing.” Abby’s eyes were soft as she regarded her daughter, “You’re just like you father in that way.” 

“I miss him.” 

Abby let out a breath, “I do too. Now get home, I’m sure you have a long day ahead of you tomorrow.” 

Clarke nodded, looking back when she opened the door. “I love you, mom.”

“I love you too.” 

~~

When Clarke returned home, it was dark. Her home was almost too quiet when she walked in. An uneasy feeling settled in her gut when she headed up the stairs, the hallway so dark she couldn’t even make out basic shapes. She flicked the light switch, hissing in annoyance when she continued to stare into complete darkness. Her heart rate sped up, suddenly hyper-aware of her surroundings. Was this on purpose, or was she just being paranoid? She neared the top of the steps before giving into her instinct. Clarke pulled out the gun at her waist, turning back to her door to, hopefully, silently escape. 

Just as she reached for the front door, she heard footsteps quickly moving towards her on her left. Before she could respond, she felt hands wrap around the back of her neck, forcefully bashing her head against the door, throwing her so hard she bounced off. 

Clarke gasped in pain when she landed on her back, the hold on her gun tightening. She could barely make out the attacker’s outline, but even so she pointed her gun. As if the attacker knew her next move, he stomped on her right arm, forcing her to let go of the gun. Clarke shouted angrily, frantically reached out for it, but the attacker grabbed her by the collar of her shirt, kicking the gun across the floor at the same time. He pulled her to him, and it was then that Clarke felt a cold blade press up against her neck. “Time to die,” he whispered into her ear.

The blonde threw her arms up, grabbing at the man's forearms to get the knife away from her throat. Her arms shook with the effort, the man doing his best to refute her actions. Realizing she was getting nowhere, Clarke abandoned that plan, reaching up to his eyes with her other hand and digging her nails as deeply as she could get them.

He screamed in pain, his hands flying up to his eyes. Clarke closed her fist and punched him in the face, turning on her heel to escape. The attacker was caught off guard, but recovered just in time to grab her hair, yanking her to him. “Fuck!” He shouted, blood streaming down his face. “Just stay put!” He spun her around, punching her in the face several times as if in revenge. Clarke yelped at the contact, her vision blackening. She felt blood trickling down her face when she decided to try and get her gun back. 

She leaped across the floor, her arms reaching out to grab the gun. The attacker held her legs down, forcing her to use her arms to pull herself forward. She rolled on her side, wrenching her legs free to kick him in the face. The man grunted at the contact, his hand flying up to his face. She used the distraction to free herself and crawl as fast as she could across the floor. 

Her hand wrapped around the gun just in time for the attacker to wrap his hand around her ankle. She pointed her gun at him, her hand violently shaking. She was just about to pull the trigger when – 

Clarke’s eyes widened when the man suddenly collapsed. She waited a few seconds, waiting for him to get back up, but when nothing happened, she sat up, confused. 

Clarke squinted her eyes when her lights turned on, revealing a man standing above the attacker. His skin was dark, and though it was hard to tell from the floor, he was definitely much bigger and taller than Clarke. His head was shaved bald, and his expression was rough. Clarke’s eyes wandered down to the knife in his hand, the tip dripping crimson. She crawled backward, her head throbbing. She panted, sucking in oxygen as fast as she could. Clarke definitely did not recognize this man. “You don’t work for me.” It wasn’t a question. She knew everyone that worked for her, and she was very sure she would remember this man. 

“West side,” he grunted simply, busying himself with searching the attacker. 

“Lexa…sent you?” Clarke gasped when she sat up, pain shooting through her head.

He nodded, taking in Clarke’s state. “I overheard a plan to attack you.” He furrowed his eyebrows together, “I’m going to have to take you to Lexa. He cut all the phone wires in your house so I’m not going to be able to contact her.” 

Clarke recoiled, “You think I would be stupid enough to cross borders this time of night?” 

The man stared at her, “Relax, Lexa called for a cease fire.” He nodded to her injuries. “Besides, I helped you.”

“I would have been just fine all by myself, thank you,” she replied stubbornly. 

He scowled deeply, “I’m sure,” he drawled sarcastically before approaching her, “But I’m afraid I still have to take you to Lexa. If I leave you here, they might attack you again.”

“Why are you so insistent on helping me?”

He shrugged, “Lexa’s orders.” 

The simple answer made her suspicious, but she knew she wasn't in any shape to deny help. What she really needed to do was talk to Bellamy; tell him what was going on. “Can I at least get your name before you attempt to kidnap me?”

“Lincoln,” he replied, reaching his hand out to help her up. He wrapped her arm around his shoulder more gently than she expected him to. From there he wasted no effort helping her along to his car.

Clarke was suddenly aware of how much everything hurt. Her head especially. It throbbed, the pain getting stronger and stronger now that she was out of immediate danger. When Lincoln realized Clarke was dragging her feet, he lifted her into his arms, easily sliding her into the backseat. Clarke's head thumped against the window when he set her down, Clarke using all her willpower to keep her eyes open. When everything became blurry, Lincoln looked back from the driver's seat, “....Ms. Griffin?”

Then, everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided that I'm just going to use my fav lines from songs as chapter titles so enjoy that

**Author's Note:**

> Just so you don't have to do the math $2,000 is equivalent to about $29,169. Clarke got da money
> 
> for more possible updates follow dontmakemechokeaginge.tumblr.com


End file.
